


Beautifully Unfinished

by lossie



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Battle Of Five Armies, Angst, Everything is Complicated, F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Romance, Shameless Lovestory, Somehow I always make them suffer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 10:19:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5782378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lossie/pseuds/lossie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, how she had wanted to say yes! How tempting it was to simply nod her head in affirmative and then lean forward to seal the deal with a kiss! But she couldn't accept him, when he had no qualms about offending her so grievously while claiming to love her."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautifully Unfinished

**Author's Note:**

> I simply needed to get this out of my system. It’s just a short chapter fic with a somewhat warmed-over plotline of seemingly endless what-ifs, but I hope you’ll enjoy it. I have most of it written out, so I think I will be able to post the entire thing before the end of February.  
> The story is heavily inspired by “Pride and Prejudice”(two scenes in particular), because Thranduil is the perfect Mr Darcy and Tauriel is an even better Lizzy Bennet ;)  
> For those of you who are wondering, the next chapter of “Maybe Someday” should be up before the end of the month. I also still remember about all your requests and I will get to them soon as well. If all goes as I planned, then I should have a bit of time in February to focus solely on writing.  
> The exam session is coming, so keep your fingers crossed for me!  
> As per usual, enjoy and please, remember to leave a comment/review! :)

“ _You left your kiss like a bruise on my lips_  
_Your fingerprints are tattooed on my skin_  
_And hush now don’t cry, build your walls high_  
_And don’t you dare come creeping in_ ”  
-Ella Henderson, “Beautifully Unfinished"

* * *

 

Though Tauriel has experienced death before and knew the morbid look of it better than most, she was still deeply shocked by the sight that greeted her when she entered the ruins of Dale. Once the stronghold of Men in the East, it was now little more than a graveyard. The bodies of those who had perished during Smaug’s attack on Erebor were everywhere. They littered the ground, covered now by a thin layer of fresh snow. They stood frozen in the entrances of many buildings, suspended in time and space; trying in vain to shield themselves from the deadly flames of a dragon. They were huddled together against walls and in archways, locked in eternal embraces with those they had loved and cherished. It was truly tragic to witness it all, even after so many years.  
  
She wasn’t the only one thoroughly disturbed by the sight. It was easy to see the fear in the eyes of men though they were holding it in remarkably well, given the circumstances. Glancing at Legolas, who was walking a few steps in front of her,  she noted the rigid set of his shoulders and the heaviness in his usually light gait. He was affected by the sight just as much as her, if not more, and she could make an educated guess why.  
  
The late Queen of Mirkwood died in the same way, consumed by flames of a raging fire serpent.  
  
Seeing the mangled bodies of those who had suffered the same fate as his mother was probably very painful, but he needed this sight, so he could put the past behind him. Tauriel knew that he struggled daily with the memories of the happier times, when the Queen was still alive, and it had to stop. If it didn’t, he was going to end up like his father, bitter and too wrapped up in his suffering to notice anything else. The long years of suffering in silence had damaged the Elvenking to the point where she sometimes highly doubted he could ever be whole again. She didn’t wish such a cruel fate on her friend. Even in her current state of despair, she was willing to put him before her. He was the only thing she had left at this point, after all, for she highly doubted that the king would be lenient enough to lift her banishment and allow her back into his Halls.  
  
It hurt to think about the king. They have become close, inappropriately so, over the years she served him as the Captain of his Guard, but she never suspected that his regard for her was so passionate. She loved him like a subject ought to love their sovereign, but there was always a hint of something more to her feelings than mere admiration and loyalty would dictate, no matter how much she wanted to deny it. Then again, she has always known that she wasn’t meant to be his equal and, thus, their relationship was destined to remain cordial till the end of days, which she had come to accept with a heavy heart, but in her foolishness she let herself enjoy his attentions far too much. It was bound to cause her trouble, though she hardly cared about it at the time.  
  
This carelessness became her undoing.  
  
“I have struggled in vain to suppress my feelings, because of  the inferiority of your birth and what is expected of me. I fought against my better judgement, making those past few decades a torment, but there will be no more of this nonsense from now on. You must allow me to express my regard, for I can no longer hide the truth from you,” he had said to her fervently, pressing her against the stone wall. She had come to him to give a report, but she found him under the influence of wine and thought better of staying with him. He was faster then she expected and he caught her before she had a chance to leave. His pupils, she remembered, were dilated so much that all that remained of his irises were thin rings of icy blue.  Those eyes had truly scared her, the intensity of his gaze a complete novelty to her. “All I ask of you is to end my agony.”  
  
“I do not understand...” She had started to say in a whisper, but he interrupted her before she could finish.  
  
“I admire and love you, Tauriel.” He had pressed his forehead against hers, his breath caressing her lips as he spoke. “Please, do me the honour of accepting my suit.”  
  
It has been days already since their encounter, but she could still feel his fingers digging painfully into her arms with enough force to leave a bruise and hear the tremor in his deep voice.  
  
Oh, how she had wanted to say yes! How tempting it was to simply nod her head in affirmative and then lean forward to seal the deal with a kiss! But she couldn’t accept him, when he had no qualms about offending her so grievously while claiming to love her.  
  
He was meant to love his wife even after her death, not fall for some lowly Silvan elleth who was too hot-headed and impulsive for her own good. He wasn’t supposed to feel that way at all. Tauriel had no illusions about her heritage, as well as her position in the kingdom, and she had accepted both a long time ago, though it didn’t make it any easier to have them thrown into her face like insults every now and again. Being Silvan didn’t mean that she worse than him, but he apparently thought that way, which only succeeded in hurting her more than mere words could describe.  
  
“Sire, I am terribly sorry to have caused you pain, but I cannot accept you, for I do not love you,” she had said to him, hating herself for the serenity with which she could say such a horrendous lie and knowing that she had no other choice.  
  
They had argued afterwards, both angry for strikingly different reasons, and when he continued to hold her in a vice grip, even after she had asked him many times to release her, she slapped him hard across the face. The action had caused him to let go of her, which gave her the opportunity to escape and she fled from the antechamber of his personal quarters as quickly as she could, feeling strangely empty.  
  
The escape of the Dwarves was a much-welcomed distraction to the suddenly suffocating atmosphere in the King’s Halls, since the gossip mill was hard at work after the Elvenking’s unexpected confession. She didn’t know how the information got out and spread so rapidly through the fortress, but she suspected that the king’s personal guards had something to do with it. Either way, being a topic of every whispered discussion and a subject of everyone’s scrutiny didn’t sit well with her and she felt as though someone was deliberately trying to bring her more pain than was her due.  
  
Thankfully, she had no time to ponder about it long enough , though she also didn’t suspect that she would be so affected by Kili’s injury. She knew that the king felt jealous when she had reacted so violently to the Orc’s words about the dwarf’s impending death and she didn’t care. Though she would always love him, no matter how much he hurt her, she surely wasn’t going to be swayed by his ridiculous possessiveness or his volatile temper.  
  
The depth of his feelings and his unhealthy obsession with her terrified her and made her want to bolt. In the end she left the fortress in pursue of Kili without giving much thought to the consequences of her actions and she certainly didn’t look back. Up until now.  
  
Running away seemed so much easier than facing him again, when she knew he was never going to change.  
  
Not for her.  
  
Not for anyone.  
  
Maybe it was the true reason behind her decision, her fear and resignation forcing her to abandon the relative safety of her homeland for the unknown of what could only be described as bittersweet freedom.

-o-o-o-

During the following days Legolas kept giving her strange looks, but he never once came up to her to ask about anything or simply talk. She knew that he has heard the rumours spreading across the King’s Halls before their sudden departure, because it would have been neigh impossible not to, and she wanted to clarify the situation, but she was also too afraid of his reaction to speak first. They danced around the proverbial dragon in the room like a pair of complete fools and Tauriel knew that it wasn’t going to change any time soon.  
  
However, the amount of things that required her attention once their group settled in the city kept her busy and she was able to push thoughts of Legolas to the back of her mind, successfully blocking the guilt at keeping this worst kept secret to herself. Many, who had managed to survive the carnage of Esgaroth, were injured, so Tauriel found herself moving from one person to another with a soft whisper of healing incantations on her lips for most of the time, offering comfort and relief where it was sorely needed. When she was done by the end of the day, she was too exhausted to do anything, but rest. During those nights when sleep wouldn’t come, she simply stared at the sky and took solace in the bright stars, wishing for something she couldn’t quite name.  
  
Legolas was holding on better than she expected. He aided Bard in whatever way he could, from distribution of food rations to giving insight on the many aspects of ruling. Sometimes, when they still dwelled in his father’s domain, she found it easy to forget that he was a prince, because he never put himself above his peers and rarely ever pulled rank on anyone, but now it was becoming very obvious to her that he would make a good king one day. There was also a certain air of calmness about him that called for a certain level of respect. People bowed to her prince as he went about his duties, just like they bowed to Bard, and for the first time he didn’t seem to be overly bothered by it.  
  
Everyone held shadows in their eyes, touched as they were by the atrocity of their circumstances, and so very few seemed to care about what was going to come. They all existed in their own little world with the tragedy of the past days weighting them down significantly and nobody was eager to force them out of this stupor, at least for the time being. For her part, Tauriel felt so numb and detached that she highly doubted her own death would have bothered her much at the moment.  
  
It became obvious very quickly that without outside help the people weren’t going to survive the oncoming winter. She knew Dwarves had promised to aid the Men in exchange for weapons and the likes, but they were nowhere to be seen and Tauriel suspected that they weren’t going to come out of their beloved mountain any time soon, if they have even survived their fight with Smaug to begin with.  
  
Her gaze often strayed in the general direction of Erebor. In those moments her thoughts went to Kili and she wondered if he was alright. They haven’t spent much time together, but she still considered him a friend, even though she knew his feelings for her were definitely more romantic in nature.  
  
At the same time she rarely ever allowed herself to look at the outline of Mirkwood, which was looming like a great shadow in the West. She didn’t regret her decision to leave, because she knew she wouldn’t have been able to handle the consequences of her interaction with the king if she stayed, but it was difficult to imagine her life away from the familiar forest she loved so much. Even if she was inclined to lie and pretend that she was going to be fine staying in Dale, she couldn’t do it.  
  
This city was never going to replace her home.  
  
It was never going to be enough.  
  
There was precious nothing she would have been able to do to change it now though, so she worked even harder and by the end of the second week after the destruction of Esgaroth she began to feel a bit better.  
  
Then, as always, all hell broke loose and turned her new-found sense of peace into dust.

-o-o-o-

She rose early that day, since she was supposed to change the bandages on some of her patients before meeting with Bard and Legolas for the morning debriefing. They met just after sunrise each day to discuss the distribution of rations, the patrols, the tutoring sessions in fighting, the watch schedules, and whatever else came up during the previous day that needed to be talked over before they parted ways. It usually lasted for only a few minutes, since there was little to say that wasn’t obvious.  
  
There was only a handful of capable fighters around. They usually divided them into three groups – the first one was responsible for the patrols, the second one trained whoever was willing to try their hand at fighting, and the third stood watch in turns.  
  
They didn’t have enough food to feed the amount of people present, but they made do by making a simple stew and giving it out two times a day.  
  
What usually came up was a discovery of another body or, if they were particularly lucky, a barrel of fish, though the later hasn’t happened in at least five days. There was nothing they could do with the bodies, which were still pilling up. Bard would simply go to inform the family, if there was any left, and they would go on as if nothing was wrong.  
  
Tauriel desperately wished for some good news as she finished with her last patient and then headed off in the direction of the Town Hall.  
  
The sky paled with the slowly rising sun, which painted the ruined streets she walked through with various shades of orange and pink. She would have gladly stopped to enjoy a few stray rays of sunshine, if she wasn’t in a hurry, but she promised herself that she was going to do so right after the meeting.  
  
Just as she expected, Bard was already waiting for her, his face grey with exhaustion and his expression sombre.  
  
“Where is Legolas?” She asked as she made her way over to the table over which he was standing, studying an old map and slowly sipping his tea from a small cup. His only response was a vague shrug of his shoulders.  
  
“You don’t know?”  
  
“No,” he said, looking up at her through a curtain of dark hair with something akin to a smile. “Though I believe he shall be there soon. He went out on a patrol with two of my men earlier to investigate the situation within the mountain. It shouldn’t take them long to go there and back.”  
  
“Aa.” She nodded in understanding.  
  
Before she could say anything else, she heard footsteps and a moment later Alfrid appeared in the room looking like he had just woken up. She observed him with slightly narrowed eyes, knowing that the slimy man was supposed to take the last watch. Though Bard seemed to be largely indifferent to the man’s presence and even trusted him to a degree, Tauriel couldn’t shake off a feeling that there was something malicious about the overbearing Edain with his beady eyes and rat-like face. For some reason she strongly believed that he would be the first to run if they were ever in danger. His skittishness around her and Legolas didn’t help in improving her opinion of him, though he tried his best to appease them both with false flattery and smiles that were anything but charming.  
  
“Have something changed during the night?” Bard asked as he put the cup down on the table and walked to Alfrid, before passing him by and going outside. The three of them made their way to what remained of the courtyard and Tauriel stayed close behind the Bowman, playing with one of her knives in a way that kept the eyes of the screwy-looking man  glued to her hands.  
  
“Same as it was, my lord,” Alfred supplied with a smile that showed off his yellowed teeth. “Nothing can get past me.”  
  
“Mm.” Bard’s lips quirked in a way that suggested he was very unimpressed. “Except from an army of Elves, it would seem.”  
  
Her heart almost stopped in her chest when they walked onto the old market square of Dale, because the man was right. There was an army – or at least a small part of one – facing them. Tauriel could recognize all of their faces, partially hidden as they were by their helmets, since she has trained with them many times during her tenure as a captain, and she knew they were aware of who she was as well. Before anyone else had a chance to move, she walked briskly down the steps leading from the Town Hall to the yard itself. The soldiers parted as she walked, letting her pass through between them, and she didn’t even flinch when they stepped back into their original positions once she moved out of their way.  
  
They must have come only a moment before, she decided. It would have been impossible to miss their approach, even in the darkness of the night, though Alfrid didn’t exactly strike her as someone overly perceptive and he was most definitely sound asleep for the last few hours. At the same time she knew she or Legolas should have been able to hear them, but they were also exhausted and didn’t expect such company.  
  
When she was out in the open, her heart beating faster than ever before, she stopped and waited. Not a moment later the Elvenking himself arrived. His eyes roamed around as if assessing the situation before they finally landed on her.  
  
The look on his face said it all.  
  
He hadn’t expected to see her.  
  
She moved a few steps back when for a brief moment it seemed that he was going to dismount. Thankfully, he thought better of it and simply continued to stare at her intently as if trying to gaze deep into her very soul. Had she been less scared or more daring, she would have left immediately,  but fear made her to stay where she was. Her thoughts  ran rampant as she imagined what he was going to do with her now. It was in his right and power to order her to go back to the fortress or worse to take her back there by force. To be honest, she wouldn’t put it past him, for she knew the inferno  of his anger better than anyone.  
  
“My lord Thranduil,” said Bard suddenly and she was barely able to stop herself from flinching at the close proximity of his voice, too preoccupied by the presence of the Elvenking to take notice of anything else. “We did not look to see you here.”  
  
“I’ve hear you needed aid,” the king responded, though he didn't even glance at the man. He waved his hand almost leisurely and a chart filled to the brim with supplies, as well as food, slowly rolled onto the courtyard. To her surprise, Tauriel noticed that there was one other elf following it on horseback, who was also the best healer of the Woodland Realm. Lady Narie, the head healer, smiled at her when she noticed her and Tauriel returned the gesture, although somewhat brokenly. The older elleth has always been supportive of her and took care of her after she was brought to the fortress as a little child. It was heartening to see her, though Tauriel was too numb to feel any sort of relief or happiness at the moment.  
In a matter of minutes, people gathered eagerly around the  chart and began distributing the contents of it amongst themselves with the help of the two Elven servants, who drove it.  
  
Though she tried to deny it, she was truly shocked by the Elenking's unexpected act of kindness. It was very much uncommon for him to get involved or offer help to those of other races, mConstitutionalConvention  
uch less to go out of his way in order to do so.  
  
“You’ve saved us." Bard's voice carried a note of gratitude and expressed the same wonder at the bizarre situation she felt so acutely. "I do not know how we can thank you.”  
  
“Your gratitude is misplaced. I did not come on your behalf." Tauriel felt herself go rigid at the cold response, which seemed almost dismissive in nature. Expected as it was, she still didn't want to hear it.  
  
But the Elvenking wasn’t done yet.  
  
"I came to reclaim something of mine.”  
  
Prompted by morbid curiosity, she looked back at the king and found him as he was before,  gazing at her with unfathomable intensity.  
  
The message hidden in those words was clear. He was after something the Dwarves had and, given the tales, she could only think of one thing – namely, the casket containing the fabled White Gems of Lasgalen. It was the heirloom of their people, stolen centuries ago and kept deep within the kingdom of Erebor.  
There was something more to it though, more than met the eye, and she realized it soon enough. It wasn't only the gems he was after.  
  
He came for her.  
  
He came to reclaim her.  
  
Like an object or a possession he could do with as he saw fit. As if she had lost her free will and was supposed to be nothing more than an obedient subject he apparently wanted her to be.  
  
His cause was anything but  noble and she felt foolish for ever thinking otherwise, so without sparing the king another look, she turned on her heel and walked away as fast as her legs would carry her, acutely aware of the fact that she was leaving him waiting once again and feeling strangely empty because of it.


End file.
